An Awfully Lot Like It
by PetPetAngel
Summary: It may not have been caring or anything of the sort than made Snape give Harry the answer he had wanted, but it was an awfully lot like it. SnapeHarry Slash Fic of Understanding. Doesn't have to be slash.


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An Awfully Lot Like It

Written by:

PetPetAngel

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Harry unconsciously gripped his arm tightly, eyes shifting down the corridor that he could always run down in case he changed his mind. He would never be able to ask to talk to the man himself, not to mention that it would difficult finding his way around the dungeons, so he was left doing it after classes. Crap.

He took a deep breath before he finally knocked on the door, wincing on how loud it seemed in the still silence of Hogwarts. There was a call of 'Enter' and Harry vaguely wondered if he had signed his death wish. Was a death eater as bad as the devil?

Perhaps, since it was this one. He had thought maybe he could go to Draco who was probably going to receive his Dark Mark soon, but decided since his only connection to Voldemort would be through stress and his father's wants he wouldn't do. He didn't have the experience that this man had anyway.

He turned the knob slowly, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and resisting the urge to finger at the scar on his forehead. Though it didn't sting like the first time he had looked at him, it still tingled, even during classes. Maybe it was because of the Dark Mark.

For a moment he stood silently at the door, glancing purposely at his feet, until a voice said sternly, "Mr. Potter."

It wasn't even a question, and yet it seemed an awful lot like one. Harry felt the need to talk, just to eat up the uncomfortable silence. He hadn't done anything wrong by this, had he? Of course not. Right? Of course.

It wasn't a mistake, it was insanity. "Mr. Potter" came again, this time a bit stronger than before. Say something, you dolt!

"I… Wanted to talk to you about something?" He hadn't meant for it to be a question, but it was an awfully lot like one. "It's just… I thought you would understand what I was going through and I thought you'd be the only person to not feel the need to tell Dumbledore, unlike Hermione."

It came out quickly enough, but the words had sunk in. Snape put down the papers he had been grading to look at Harry, skepticism marred heavily into his facial expression. "…."

The man's intense gaze was unnerving him, but he was already intruding to some extent so he didn't glare back nor did he retort, even though there wasn't much to retort to anyway. "Well? I haven't got all day."

Even though Harry can sense the irritation in the man's voice, it's still said incredibly steadily, and Harry's impressed. It would come in handy if he could master a similar skill.

"I want to know how you live with Voldemort in your head all the time."

"And you come to me of all people for this? Potter, I'm sorry to disappoint you but I'm not a child psychologist." Harry stared at the man, then at his feet, then back to the man. How could he just brush him off like that?

Well… Then again there was the fact that he was _Snape_, but still…

"It's just… Since you're like, a spy thing for both sides…. I thought you might know how I feel since you see the same stuff I do since-"

"Since when, Mr. Potter?" Though the man's face was passive, there was lingering curiosity behind the cold obsidian eyes.

"Well, since Voldemort. Ya know…. I can see what's happened, what's going to happen, and… Sometimes I see Death Eater meetings."

Again, the man's face was devoid of any emotion. Harry felt the frustration inside of him begin to boil. How hard could it be to understand the words 'I want to know how you live with Voldy in your head'? What part of that sentence didn't he understand?

The man still said nothing, and feeling that he would soon go back to grading his papers, Harry turned to leave.

"Did I dismiss you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry paused mid-step and turned to face the Potions Master. What sort of joke was this? "Would you _please_ decide whether or not you're going to help me out here, Snape?" The man could deny it was indecision all he wanted, but Harry thought if it wasn't it was an awful lot like it.

There was a silence that fell over the room and Harry shifted irritably, ready to leave again despite the older man's words. Snape wasn't known to be indecisive towards him, but there was always something you didn't know about a lot of people. His mind wandered absently due to his dwindling patience, until Snape's voice broke through.

"You just learn to live with it, Potter. I can't tell you how to deal with it. Tough luck for you." The man wasn't even looking at him as he spoke, and that irritated Harry. Still, he felt a slight numbness engulf him. He had thought that Snape would've figured it out by now – the secret, but apparently he hadn't. Or something like that.

"….Alright," he said quietly, turning to leave again, but stopped when he heard footsteps.

"It was that woman, wasn't it? That woman and her child? They took her child and raped her, then stabbed her through the stomach and put her under the Cruciatus Curse-" Snape's words seemed vengeful.

"YES HER." Harry squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the disturbing image came to mind once again. And then when he thought of what they did to the seven year old girl's mother… "How can you just… Watch and then forget it?"

"That's what I do, Potter."

Harry jumped a mile high when he felt a semi-cold hand on his cheek, which soon fell away from his face to rest on his shoulder. This was strange, he thought, as he stared into the black eyes of the Potions Master. "Are…. Are you feeling alright, Professor?" It was the best he could do. What was wrong with the man? Was he delusional? "I'm going crazy," he mumbled to himself, _craaaaazzzzy…_

What the hell was going on! "Just steel yourself, Potter. And forget. It's that simple."

The older man pulled back from where he was and gave a rare, small smile to the astonished boy. For the first time, Snape didn't seem like such a greasy git after all. Harry offered a small smile and left.

He had his answer. It might not have been caring, worry, or even understanding that made Snape say it, but it was an awfully lot like it.


End file.
